"Urgh. Do we HAVE to...?"
12-year-old Edward moaned.
"I HATE fencing lessons..."
"Why? 'Cos I always win?" sniggered John.
"Hmm...!"
"John. Act your age," scolded Harold. "It's obvious, because you are 2 years older than him."
And I am 6 years older than you, Johnny, which makes me not only the eldest but the best of all three of us at fencing, Harold smiled and thought to himself.
Johnny sat on the couch and sulked at his minor defeat.
Edward escaped from the living room to make some tea.
He had this strange obsession with tea; he'd always go off to the kitchen and prepare some at around 2:50, despite the wishes of both their father and the servants.
Well, not the servants. The BUTLERS and MAIDS and TUTORS and basically anyone in the palace that was there for their aid.
You see, these seemingly normal brothers were actually much more important than they acted.
In fact, they were all princes - heirs the throne of Saturnia.
And they were all about to become victims to a terrible disaster that was about to befall their kingdom.
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